


this insubstantial pageant faded

by Elenchus



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not Happy, many feelings are had; nothing is resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenchus/pseuds/Elenchus
Summary: It took some time for Martin to notice the Archivist, and longer to acknowledge him. “So, what,” Martin finally said, standing up to look the Archivist in the face, “is this supposed to be more nightmare fuel? Oh no, Jonathan Sims is giving me his absolute focused attention! How terrrrible! You’d think my subconscious, or, or the spooky powers that be would try a little harder than that.”The Archivist Watches one of Martin Blackwood's dreams.





	this insubstantial pageant faded

Martin’s nightmare was open and empty; a crushing landscape of too much space with too little to fill it – not unlike the dreams the Archivist had watched from victims of the Vast. Martin sat in the middle, if there could be said to be a middle, watching a series of shadowy figures flicker in and out of being. As the Archivist watched, one passed straight through him, not seeming to notice Martin at all. If the Archivist had to guess, he would say there was more of the Lonely to this dream than any other power.

It took some time for Martin to notice the Archivist, and longer to acknowledge him. “So, what,” Martin finally said, standing up to look the Archivist in the face, “is this supposed to be more nightmare fuel? Oh no, Jonathan Sims is giving me his absolute focused attention! How terrrrible! You’d think my subconscious, or, or the spooky powers that be would try a little harder than that.”

The Archivist didn’t reply. He kept watching.

After several more long moments, Martin started to fidget. “Alright, yeah, I can see how this could be…a lot. Maybe really a lot. Still sort of into it though.” He winced. “Wait, you’re not- if you’re the real Jon spying on my dreams and not just my mind doing its normal depressing thing, just- maybe forget that one, ok?”

More silence. Martin rubbed the toe of his shoe into a floor that wasn’t there.

“If it _is_ the real you, you shouldn’t be here. Hell, I probably shouldn’t even be talking to dream you, it isn’t-”

“I missed you,” said Jonathan Sims.

The Archivist didn’t – couldn’t – blink in surprise as a second figure stepped forward from the dream space he occupied. The figure was less distinct, less clear, but indisputably recognizable. Curiosity warred with alarm as another Archivist – no, another Jon? – gave Martin a sad, tender smile.

“I missed you, and you weren’t there.”

Martin took a step back, and then slowly, inexorably, a step forward again. “I- I know.”

“I came back, and I was all alone,” said the man who was but couldn’t be Jonathan Sims. “I thought you, at least, would be there for me. I depended on you. You let me down.”

“I know,” Martin repeated in a whisper.

Jon gently brushed a tendril of Martin’s hair behind his ear. “I understand now. It’s for the best. I was weak – I would have given anything just to feel a bit less alone. But I don’t need you anymore; I’ve replaced you. You only would have weighed me down in the long run.”

Martin nodded.

“Goodbye, Martin,” said Jon, “and good luck, I suppose.” Martin kept his eyes fixed on the phantom Jon as he walked away and slowly faded like all the others. The Archivist watched.

At last Martin turned back to him, and gave a shrug and universal gesture of “ah well, that’s that.” Martin’s hands were shaking. The Archivist felt his waking self might even know why.

Martin’s voice was as unsteady as his hands. “All clear, message received. Wasn’t really necessary, frankly. I’m already-” he drew in a deep, ragged breath. “We’re done here, yeah? Nothing more to watch?”

The Archivist didn’t control where he went or when he stopped. He couldn’t even control the direction of his gaze or close his eyes long enough to blink. And so, he watched.

Martin made a frustrated sound and an abrupt gesture, and suddenly the Archivist wasn’t anywhere at all and there was no one there with him.

For the rest of the night, for the first time in a very long while, the Archivist dreamed alone.


End file.
